Waits in the white room
The room where the music disappears
Where the milk lotion fills your brain
Better than candy
Better than liquor
Better than anything really
The jam weeps into the sponge
There is no place like it
More comfortable for us
She says
Shh
We can roll cotton in the dark
Trick trick tricky
A false uniform
Worn but not believed
They tease us with peppermint screams
Stitch up our dreams in candy floss
Turn the train to run over us
When we have tried so hard
So fucking hard
We do ditches
Half baked
Pie eyed
Running around
Headless chicken
Hypnotised by what I thought was love
Hanging on
Hanging on
No gimmicks
Right
Right
Pure
Just you and me
You never trick me
Lust the depravity of this nothingness
It’s easy as pie
All just a process silly
Pack the bag
Swallow the pretties
And then
I don't know
Wait
For what
For whatever comes next
Why did we take so long
Why did we try so fucking hard
One
Two
Three
We don’t do ditches
We do bridges.
Sometimes I think we do ditches, no bridges. Sometimes there are other ways...keys, puzzles, clues, it is up to us, clap our hands, one, two, and three. Nicely done....was there something else? ...
ReplyDeleteI think I unravelled that puzzle thank you Annell...there is is always something else but hopefully it will be brighter....thank you xo
Delete"...half baked and pie eyed..." I am there.
ReplyDeleteIt's easily done! Thank you Gail (hope you are 'back')
DeleteWe don't do bridges
ReplyDeleteWe do ditches
Another take on the ever-imploding world if many if us. As personal as your poetry is (intensely), you speak the language of many, Jae. The candy floss and "peppermint screams" (the ones who yammer at us about knowing how we could do better...)really hit home. Keening message, so delicately portrayed. BGTY. Love, Amy
Thank you Amy..for knowing...that's worth more than anything hugs back xo
DeleteThe strange thing is that they think they are helping you but in reality only helping themselves. How adept the system is by using words like "care" where that is furthest from the truth. So sorry your poem had to be written Jae.
ReplyDeleteDon't be sorry Old Egg...it is better to write than to do..maybe today will be a lemon drops and drawing kitty cats kind of day..thank you
DeleteHmmm...I don't think I like this place!
ReplyDeleteVery wise not to..thank you J Cosmo
DeleteBrilliant. The world s not as it seems, and often, words betray.
ReplyDeleteYes indeed! Thank you kindly Freya
DeleteAhh Jae - I think that Amy's comment really nailed this poem - I was too caught in peppermint to feel the pain until my second read - that little hand clap really got me
ReplyDeleteNot sure if my comment is being moderated or disappeared ... at any rate think Amy nailed the sense of this - I keep returning to the hopefulness in the "we don't do ditches we do bridges" ...
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Pearl - for understanding..it's much appreciated (and for making sure your comment arrived)
DeleteI like the idea of doing bridges rather than ditches too. And, oh that all rooms could be white what a bright world it would be. Found your stanza on home interesting...yup, for some I suppose it is torture but there is no place like it.
ReplyDeleteThank you Mary...and for illuminating the brighter possibilities a bridge might symbolise....home definitely the best....peaceful Sunday to you xo
DeleteI was having shivers from this 'place' almost immediately. Not a very nice place to be, I think.
ReplyDeleteNo - a place to shiver and hide from..thank you Misky
DeleteI don't even know where to begin. Your poem leaves me breathless. Actually, it leaves me in the ditch with the rest of the castoffs, the ones who can't build bridges to anything, because they have swallowed too many pretties and tried too fucking hard. (What a trip, Jae, what a trip!)
ReplyDeleteWhirling with Alberto
Thank you Magical...the legions of the bungled and the botched....at least we can look up at the stars...castaways not castoffs! Thanks for coming On the trip..hope you returned safely...
DeleteBridges, of course! .. even short ones will do...I'm with you to everything apples :)xx
ReplyDeleteYes - cheers to apples! Thank you humbird xo
DeleteWonderful, wonderful, I was looking to see what you going with the word. Your poems lately have such a surreal feel to it, which in the end, just make them better.
ReplyDeleteWe don’t do ditches
We do bridges.
Just perfect.
http://thequietone.net/2014/10/11/phantom-train/
Thanks Cathy...there's something to be said for being a bit nuts then! Glad you enjoyed and thank you for your lovely comment
DeleteOnce wrote a myth story about a young man whose name, in some unknown language, meant 'bridge,' He doesn't know that until the end of the story, even though all of his actions define him to be a connective link between once separated entities. Reading through your words and the comments here, I know I am not the only one who finds connective links with myself and others in what you write. Somewhere, in some unknown language, I believe your name means 'bridge.' Thank you again,
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
Thank you Elizabeth...did he realise the connections by the end/beginning of his story? It's hard to see when your in the words...that bridge....thank you again also
DeleteHe'd had hints, but true understanding came with the definition. Words are bridges and its amazing how much life flows just beneath that surface. Thanks for asking,
DeleteElizabeth
Wow. There is so much great imagery here.
ReplyDeleteLike the first four or five lines, especially. You sucked me in, and hard, right away. These are my favorites:
"The jam weeps into the sponge"
"Nobody actually likes us loves us wants us to be
They tease us with peppermint screams"
Thank you Rosemary...glad you enjoyed and delved in!
Deleteoh! drat! not sure my first mumurings were recorded...but suffice to say I am blown away..waltz of the done-in-yet-still-dreaming..white rooms haunt me...and alas girls clapping hands and surviving...xxmy heart is breaking falling off the bridge into the ditch...i'll scoop her up
ReplyDeleteThank you Shauna...for the comment and the scoop...both much appreciated
DeleteJae Rose, excellent use of the words in this haunting piece of writing. It was like being someone's dreamscape.
ReplyDeletePamela ox
Thank you Pamela...sometimes it feels just like that..not quite awake..not quite asleep....but not a good dream either xo
DeleteHmm interesting and a tiny bit surreal...very cool.
ReplyDeletehttp://whenthepenbleeds.blogspot.ca/2014/10/when-when.html
We can concur surreal...pleased to be cool though! Thank you SE
DeleteThose who need a uniform to care usually don't. Sometimes the best we can do is build a bridge to someplace more real.
ReplyDeleteExactly so thank you Ann...I like the idea of a bridge to some place better..even a word bridge is a start..
DeleteThis is so powerful, Jae Rose - riveting to read. I like the reversal of ditches and bridges (though a lot of the time it feels like ditches) - and I so resonate with why did we try so fucking hard. Your imagery is incredible.
ReplyDeleteThank you kindly Sherry.....when you understand ditches you understand the trying hard bit I guess! Sometimes it seems endless
Delete